A Manager's Devotion
by hazukashiijousan
Summary: Yashiro will sacrifice anything to help Ren's career succeed, even his own emotions. But is that really the best for Ren? Drama.
1. Passing

**Author's Notes:** Set in the _Dark Moon_ story arc after vol 13/Act 78/the end of the anime. BL/slash subtext warning. Written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100. "OL" is short for "office lady" and is the Japanese term for a female "suit". Updated 9-29-11 to correct a small plot hole. Oops!

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 1: Passing

_"Kyaa! Ren-sama! Tsuruga Ren-sama! Kyaa kyaa!"_ the crowd of girls and women shrieked as they streamed down both sidewalks after the car. Ren had to stop in the turn lane to wait for an opening in traffic so he could make the right turn into the studio parking garage, and only the oncoming vehicles on either side of the road preventing the fans from swamping the car.

Ren's manager, Yashiro Yukihito, watched the milling throngs of excited women with resigned irritation. "There must be thirty of them lying in wait today! If I ever find out who leaked your car's photo and information to that fan site, I'm going to open a sushi shop to dispose of the body."

Ren made an amused noise. "Leaked or not, the info would have been discovered eventually, Yashiro-san. It doesn't take long for fans to figure out which car is mine. This isn't the first time it's happened."

Both men watched the parking garage's security guards herd the women away from the entrance, just in time for a gap in traffic to appear. Ren made the turn, and when they passed through the divided crowd, Yashiro studied the fans on his side of the car with a pained expression. They were the usual assortment of Harajuku fashion refugees, mom-types, teenagers obviously skipping school, a handful of OLs in skirts and heels, and even a joyfully sobbing man in the back wearing a sparkly electric blue shirt.

The sunlight reflecting of that last one's clothing made Yashiro wince away. With a sigh, he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. "No, it isn't the first time. But it's definitely the worst so far, thanks to your role as Katsuki in _Dark Moon_. I think stalker fanatics and the camera cell phones they wield are the bane of my existence. If I could only get my hands on those devious little devices of torment, I'd gleefully fry them all. A preemptive strike!" He raised his hands and studied them, then curled his fingers into claws. His eyes glinted with half-serious malevolence.

At that, Ren laughed and moved his own cell phone from right to left pocket—away from Yashiro, who caught the motion and chuckled.

They claimed a parking slot in the section of the garage reserved for cast. Ren turned off the car's engine and looked over at Yashiro to give him a smile. "Adoring fans are the lifeblood of a celebrity, Yashiro-san. How about you consider their dedication as proof that you're doing your job well?"

Returning the grin, Yashiro climbed out of the car and shut the door with a satisfying thunk. "Then perhaps I've been doing it _too_ well." The grin vanished as the pair walked to the elevators. "It's beginning to interfere with your work, Ren. That is not good."

"No, it isn't," he agreed, the joking tone stripped from his voice.

The elevator arrived with a couple of female passengers from the lower garage level, both OLs. They blushed and bowed when Ren gave them a polite nod as he stepped inside. Yashiro stood between them and his client, watching from the corner of his eye. To his relief, they maintained their professional manner and quietly enjoyed the dashing star's presence with shining eyes and dreamy expressions.

Satisfied, Yashiro focused once more on their car situation. "Frankly, I'm surprised the fans haven't already stalked you to your home. We could use an agency car and driver until the furor dies down. Have it pick you up at your apartment in the morning, and me at the usual train station. That way, your personal car could remain safely tucked away."

Ren gave Yashiro a look as they left the elevator.

His manager returned it with a lifted eyebrow. "I know you like your independence, Ren, but there is a larger issue at stake here."

The actor sighed. "Of course, you're right, Yashiro-san. I suppose we need to have my car painted a different color and the license plates changed as well. Again."

"Yes, that's an excellent idea." Yashiro pulled his pen and calendar from inside his suit's breast pocket and made a note. "We can use the agency car while it's being taken care of. I'll make the arrangements today. And once the change is done, you will need to be more cautious about getting in and out of your car in public places, hmm?"

Grinning sheepishly, Ren rubbed the back of his head and exchanged another look with a very stern Yashiro. He ducked his head in apology.

Yashiro nodded. "Good. Let us hope it will be some time before the next—" here he paused and clenched his fists close to his suddenly bright-eyed and blushing face and turned his voice into a fangirly squee— _"'Tsuruga-sama's car identified! Kyaaaa!'_ post to one of your fan sites," he concluded flatly.

Ren gave a rueful laugh. "Okay okay, I really do understand!" He shook his head with amusement. "I'll be more careful, if only to avoid another one of your...ah..._enthusiastic_ impressions."

"As your devoted manager, I will do anything to protect you and your career, Ren." Yashiro sent him an evil smile that crackled with malicious intent. "Even bad kogal impressions."

* * *

"Tsuruga-san! Yashiro-san! Good morning!" the cheerful voice piped out over the hum of the makeup room.

The two men looked for the speaker. Yashiro found her sitting in a chair before the lighted mirrors, receiving the finishing touches on her Mio scar.

"Morning, Kyoko-chan!" he called out in greeting with a bright smile, which she returned.

"Good morning, Mogami-san," Tsuruga echoed in his customary formal tone. The girl turned her smile to him.

Yashiro was pleased to see a blush dusting her cheeks.

When they reached Kyoko, an assistant swept the 'Reserved for Tsuruga-kun' sign off the chair next to her so the actor could take his customary seat. His only _recently_ customary seat, thanks to Yashiro's orchestrations. Yashiro caught the assistant's eye and gave her a smile. She also blushed, then quickly moved aside to allow Tsuruga's regular makeup artist, Jelly Woods, begin to work.

Yashiro happily watched Kyoko and Ren talk, Kyoko asking an acting question, and Ren considering for a moment before answering. Kyoko drunk in every word, no doubt adding it to the decorative wall scroll Yashiro fondly imagined she had started. One with the title of 'Wonderful Acting Advice from Tsuruga-san' written with beautiful calligraphy and many decorative ribbons and flowers around the margins. He was disappointed when the girl's earnest blush vanished underneath her pale Mio makeup. He liked seeing evidence of the continued success of his plan.

"Um, Yashiro-san?"

With a start, he turned away from the pleasant scene to find the same assistant as before holding a tray containing coffee pitcher, creamer, sugar, and two mugs—one already filled—out to him.

"Would you like some coffee, Yashiro-san?" Her face was still flushed, and her eyes could only seem to meet his for a moment before they flicked away. "I prepared it for you."

He glanced down at the tray, took the steaming mug, and tried it with a cautious sip. "Thank you, Otani-kun." He paused to smile at her. "You remembered how I take it."

Her face burned red. "I-I thought I did, but that's why I brought over everything. In case I misrememberered," she stumbled out in conclusion, making a mess of the last word.

"I see," then he added with nonchalance, "I'm very glad that was not the case, Otani-kun, as now you can use the empty mug yourself and join me."

Otani's face lit with delight. She quickly retreated back to the small refreshment table and prepared the second mug. She was rather plain, but skillfully applied makeup and the right choices in clothing made her pretty, and she really did have a beautiful smile. Unfortunately, she was a bit clumsy. In her haste to return and stand next to Yashiro, she almost tripped over a low crate of supplies and barely avoided splashing hot coffee on one of her fellow assistants. She recovered self-consciously, quickly bowed, apologized, and stepped with utmost care through the remainder of the distance to join him against the back wall. Yashiro gave her a nod, pretending he hadn't noticed her faux pass, and she ducked her head with a shy smile and busied herself with sipping coffee. She seemed content to giddily stand there, just far enough apart to maintain formality, but close enough that it was obvious they were standing together. Yashiro caught a few exchanged glances between the other makeup artists and assistants in the room when they noticed the very nervous Otani standing next to him.

Yashiro studied his reflection in the bank of mirrors on the opposite wall, where he was visible over the shoulders of still-seated Ren. His suit today was a warm cream. His lightened hair was expertly styled, and the gleaming rims of his glasses gave him that perfect, competent air. Satisfied, Yashiro took another sip of coffee. He was always careful with his appearance, particularly as he was the manager for the increasingly popular Tsuruga Ren. Yashiro was determined to live up to his expected role of cool, elegant efficiency.

He caught Ren's eye in the mirror and gave him a proprietary smile.

Ren returned the smile, then noticed the blushing assistant standing next to him and blinked. Jelly moved then as she worked, temporarily blocking their line of sight. When she was once more out of the way, Ren raised an eyebrow at him.

Yashiro's expression turned a mite smug. He lowered the mug and silently mouthed one word in reply: 'anything.'

* * *

After a full day of filming _Dark Moon_, Yashiro and Ren retraced their steps through the studio to parking garage, where the LME agency car was awaiting them. Yashiro had made arrangements for both transportation and Ren's car via his cell phone—and his usual rubber gloves-while Ren was on the set.

"But we will be using the agency car until a week _after_ the fans thin out," Yashiro concluded. Once they were inside the vehicle and he had given the driver Ren's address, he opened his schedule book and flipped on his overhead reading light. "Speaking of those fans, the fan contest group date night is next Saturday. The restaurant was decided several weeks ago and remains unchanged, and the club venue the President has personally booked is—oh my—_Mount Fuji's Trash_." Yashiro pushed his glasses up his nose with a slight grimace at the name. "Apparently that's the really hot club at the moment. I suggest you dress for fun, not formal."

"Yes, I suppose a tuxedo would be rather out of place at that particular establishment," Ren agreed dryly from where he sat next to Yashiro on the bench back seat. "Let us hope they have better taste in music than names."

The car reached the parking garage's exit and paused to wait for an opening in traffic. Yashiro looked out the tinted window and saw a hopeful crowd of fans glance up with excitement at the sound of their approach, then visibly wilt when they realized it was not _'Kyaaa! Tsuruga-sama's car!'_ The fans had gone through an apparent shift change, at least as best as Yashiro could tell. One group of squeeing fans was really like another, and thanks to Ren's popularity, he did see a great number of them. At least the man in the fearfully bright blue shirt was gone.

As Yashiro was turning away from the window, he met the eyes of one of the ubiquitous OLs that seemed to particularly obsess over his client. With a start, he realized she could see him through the tinted windows, due to the combination of lit interior and outer shade cast by the garage's overhanging entrance.

Her eyes widened behind her own glasses, and she raised a hand to her mouth in surprise.

Yashiro only froze for a moment. He recovered, quickly lifted his hand, and held a finger to his lips as he reached up to flick off the light.

The OL blinked, then gave the slightest bow, done with a graceful lowering of eyes and tip of the head. She took a step back and half-turned away from the car, glancing up again as they passed to pull out into the street.

Safe behind the tinted glass, in direct evening sunlight, and with the reading light _off_, Yashiro studied her. She calmly walked down the sidewalk, pacing them before they accelerated away. In her office suit and heels, with a small black purse and forward-sloping wedge haircut, she was the picture of professionalism. Especially since she maintained her composure and chose not to betray their escape.

For that, Yashiro sent her a silent whisper of thanks.

He positioned his calendar to take advantage of the sunlight that reached the interior of the car through the dark windows and continued, "President Takarada has told me almost all the clubs attendees that night will be LME plants, to reduce the chance of recognition and 'crazed fangirls ripping your clothing to shreds for better camera shots'." He dropped his voice to say the last of the line in a flawless imitation of their irritated LME President.

Ren had to choke back a laugh.

Yashiro snapped shut his calendar with relish, heartened by their escape and Ren's enjoyment of his latest impersonation. "Perhaps Kyoko-chan will be a plant at the club!" His expression turned catty. "You might even squeeze in a dance with her. Hmmm?"

Ren gave him a pained look. "I seriously doubt that. She's still a minor. And I'll be on a group date with the contest winners. I'll need to spend my time with them."

Yashiro pouted, then brightened. "I'll think of some way to make it happen. You can count on me!"

"Yashiro-san, are you really planning for me to skive off work and spend time with Mogami-san instead?"

"Just for one dance. Like when the group dates go to the bathroom. Women always go to the bathroom together! While they're away, you grab Kyoko-chan and dazzle her on the dance floor!" Eyes sparkling, he clasped his hands together and saw it perfectly with his mind's eye. Ren looking dashing in a leather coat over a tight shirt, Kyoko-chan laughing with delight as Ren spins her around, making her short frilly skirt flare up around her cute legs. Yashiro quivered with anticipation. The pheromones would be high upon the air! Everyone would stop to marvel at the glorious couple!

Ren rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Again with the pushing of Mogami-san and me together." He sighed. "Yashiro-san, if you spent as much time on your own love-life as you do on mine, you'd be married by now."

Eyes hooded and still enjoying his mental vision, Yashiro purred, "I am content with my love-life as it is, Ren."

"Then you have someone? Is it Otani-san?"

Yashiro lost his playful manner. "Ren, you know I would never infringe on someone else's love. Otani-kun has a boyfriend. She told me herself."

With one hand braced on the seat between them, Ren leaned over and looked his manager in the eye. "Then what was that scene in the makeup room this morning?" He, too, had dropped the playful manner.

Voice calm, Yashiro answered, "That was me sharing a coffee break with a cute co-worker. We have an understanding, and part of that understanding is knowing that we are both already taken." He held Ren's close gaze without wavering.

The men stared at each other in silence. Neither blinked nor retreated for a very long and breathless moment.

Ren finally broke the spell. "It's one-sided, isn't it? One-sided on _your_ end. That's why you've never spoken about it to me, as open and engaging as you are."

Yashiro swallowed and turned away to face the front of the car. He silently ordered his heart to stop pounding and didn't trust himself to speak. He felt the bench seat move beneath him as Ren shifted away.

"I'm sorry, Yashiro-san. Your private life is your own. I should not have pried." His voice was solemn and sincere.

With another swallow, Yashiro adjusted his glasses and resumed perusing his calendar. "Don't worry about it, Ren. I know it's silly for me at my age. That's why I'm passing my love on to someone else. It's better for everyone that way."

He sensed Ren was looking at him once more, and when he spoke, Yashiro's brow knitted in pain at the gentle concern that shaded his deep voice.

"Again, I'm sorry, Yashiro-san. But this time it's for your situation. Only sadness can come from one-sided love. And guilt for the one who knows they are loved but cannot return the feeling." Ren sighed. "'Passing your love on'. If that's really what you want, perhaps it is best. To give up and find someone else. Someone who will love you in return."

Yashiro pressed his lips together and did not say a word.


	2. Who?

Note: Written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100. Updated 9-29-11 for some formatting cleanup.

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 2: Who?

The shoot for R Mandy's next big magazine spread was to be done on location in a seaside park towards the end of Shichirigahama Beach's hotel strip. The morning's weather had chosen to cooperate for a few hours. It was bright, clear, and windless at the moment, but clouds were due to roll in around noon. The photography crew was under pressure to make the most of what time they had, and that urgency had spread to the rest of the staff and the models as well.

The models' wardrobe and makeup trailer had to be parked on pavement, which meant the men were forced to walk to the actual shoot location on the beach proper. Normally this was nothing remarkable, except this time someone had leaked the pertinent information to yet another fan web page. Thus, the simple 20 meter walk to the shooting site had been rendered into a roped-off gauntlet of already frazzled assistants and crew members pressed into guard duty, shrieking fans trying to overpower them, and those fans' ever-present instruments of evil: camera cell phones.

When Ren emerged from the trailer with Yashiro right behind him, the women exploded in an orgasm of joy, camera clicks, and cell phone brandishing. Ren gave them his cool smile and briskly walked down the roped pathway, calm and professional as always in his first set of R Mandy clothes. Yashiro followed two steps behind, his eyes scanning the fans thronging on both sides. That meant he was just close enough for the hem of Ren's long designer jacket to brush his legs as they moved, but what of it?

They had almost reached the safety of the location perimeter when a fangirl shrieked her battle cry over the cacophony, _Kyaaa! Tsuruga-sama! I must touch you!_and hurled herself forward under the rope, aiming directly for Ren. Her flailing feet caught the ankles of one of her fellow fans, making the other woman topple forward with a cry.

Yashiro darted forward and caught the tumbling woman against his chest, before Ren could pause to help and only make things worse. "Go, Ren!" he sharply ordered, and two guards hustled the protesting actor away. Yashiro caught a glimpse of Ren's face as he was pulled behind the shoot barrier screens and inwardly grimaced.

The mob of fans wilted once the object of their desire vanished, and a few mouthy ones yelled obscenities at the guards and Yashiro in particular. He chose to ignore them. For the moment, at least. Instead, he looked down at the woman he still held and was surprised to see her staring up at him.

Her face was flushed, she was almost crying, and her familiar forward-sloping wedge haircut was in disarray. A few strands were caught on her dark red lips.

Yashiro froze for a moment in recognition, then gently pushed her back so she could stand on her own feet. He kept his hands on her upper arms until she stopped wobbling, though her face remained bright red. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, his voice warm with concern.

She managed a nod, sniffed a bit, and when he released her arms, gave him a thankful bow and moved two steps back.

When he raised his gaze from her to the milling throng, his manner completely changed, as if a switch had been thrown. Yashiro Yukihito had had _enough._He coldly surveyed them all, his eyes glinting like sharp chips of ice. The crowds instantly fell silent, and the women closest to him involuntarily backed away. Even the OL he had just saved shied from him, a hand at her mouth and eyes wide.

"You all love Tsuruga Ren, yes?" His quiet voice cut through them, his manner made even more intimidating by his controlled tone. "If you love Tsuruga Ren, then you know him. And if you know him, then you know how important his work is to him. _And you are interfering with it."_

A gasp of dismay rippled through the fans, and Yashiro was darkly satisfied to see most of the faces flush with shame. He stared at them in iced silence for several seconds to drive the point home, his eyes moving over the crowd, noting how many of them averted their gazes. Only the OL he had saved met his eyes; the tears in her own finally spilling over to trickle down her cheeks. He nodded once at them all, then turned on his heel and strode the remaining distance to the shooting site.

He stopped behind the white reflective screens and took several deep breaths. It was done. The fans were out of his personal sphere for now, and hopefully they would be more respectful the next time they intruded again to stalk his client. "Adoring fans are the lifeblood of a celebrity," he whispered Ren's words to himself. "Consider their dedication as proof that you're doing your job well." He breathed deeply once more, then let it out and looked for Ren.

The shoot was already underway, and Ren was leaning back against a mossy boulder covered with a carefully placed sheet of clear plastic. Ren's long jacket had been unbuttoned to show the form-fitting shirt and black belt beneath, and the trousers slouched just right around the top of his leather boots. His hair was tousled so his bangs half-obscured his eyes, which looked up at the photographer through long, seductive lashes.

"C'est bon, Monsieur Tsuruga! Now cross your arms! Superbe! Magnifique! Lower your head a touch and really give me a powerful glare. Kyaa! C'est bon! Trs bon!" The photographer stepped back from his camera with a satisfied smirk on his face, waving at the makeup crew to go in and do some touchup. "You're in fine form today, Monsieur Tsuruga. Your stern expressions are particularly arresting! Trs formidable!"

Yashiro sighed. He could see what the camera crew could not—that Ren wasn't acting stern for the shoot, he really was angry. The consummate actor he was, Ren could hide it very well. But for those who truly knew him, the emotion was there. In his pressed lips, in how cords of his neck particularly stood out in the morning sun, in the way his eyes sparked beneath those sinisterly lowered lids. A frisson of foreboding shivered through Yashiro. When he caught Ren's gaze around the makeup artist's ministrations, he calmly faced the anger and gave Ren a nod of acknowledgement.

"Vite vite!" The photographer cried in his affected French. "Monsieur Marshall, join Monsieur Tsuruga now! Oui!"

Accepting a cup of coffee from an assistant, Yashiro sipped, consulted his schedule book, and with an occasional glance at Ren, patiently waited for the firestorm.

* * *

Ren's stony silence filled the LME car as they began their journey to the next job. Yashiro silently listened to the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the faint swoosh of the windshield wipers. Even the driver had picked up on the tension in the car, as Yashiro could see the man's knuckles where white where he gripped the steering wheel in both hands at the formal 10 and 2 positions.

They continued in silence for a good half hour of the drive back to the city. Yashiro was content to let Ren stew. He already knew what his client would say, and rushing Ren into it or trying to head him off would only upset the man more.

Finally, Yashiro sensed Ren shift as the actor pushed the button in the arm rest on his side to raise the barrier between them and the driver. Then, he spoke.

"Yashiro-san, there was no need to remove me from the crowd. It was because of me that woman was knocked over, and I should have been the one to help her. She was my responsibility." He had cooled somewhat, but the anger was still there.

Yashiro pushed his glasses up with one hand. "And you are my responsibility, Ren. I understand your pride as a celebrity. I know you care about your fans. I knew you wanted to help her, but in that particular moment, that particular situation, it was too great a risk. I couldn't allow you to take it."

"I can control my fans. They have never hurt anyone before, and I would not allow them to start now."

"You can control small groups of them, yes, but over 30 women? All of them shrieking and frantic just at the sight of you? What a disaster it could have been for you to play the dashing prince and _save_ one of them. The others could easily have been consumed with jealousy and swamped you. They likely would have attacked that poor woman as well and ripped both of you to shreds. Her out of revenge, and you out of sheer desire and anger that you didn't save _them._ That one charging fan was already desperate for a piece of you and willing to do anything for it. Think what might happen if _all_of them had been!"

Yashiro saw Ren clench his fist on the seat between them and turn his head away to glare out the window. His manager took a breath and calmly continued, "What you said yesterday is right, Ren. Consider their dedication as proof that you are doing your job well. That 'you' extends to both of us." He reached out with his near arm to grip Ren's shoulder and give him a shake. Ren's body was so tense it felt like trying to move a bronze sculpture. "You've been doing your job so well that fans lose their minds when they see you. You drive them crazy and make them forget themselves. They love you so much, they'll risk bodily harm just to touch you. A handful of crazed fans are easy to deal with. But a mob? They may be small women and girls half your size, but Ren! They could seriously injure you en masse!"

He leaned over to Ren and shook the man's shoulder again, gratified to feel some of the tension had left Ren's body. He was listening.

"I saved that woman from falling in your stead. I did it to protect her, yes, but in truth, I did it to protect _you._That's my job as your manager, Ren. Understand that, please."

With a sigh, Ren relaxed against his seat, and Yashiro was able to give his shoulder a real squeeze.

"Who was she? The woman you saved."

Yashiro felt a stab in his gut. He removed his hand. "I don't know. I didn't ask." It was his turn to stare out the window.

Ren made a resigned noise. "Was she injured?"

"No. When I asked her if she was okay, she said she was." In a flash, Yashiro suddenly remembered the tears that had streamed down her cheeks after he had verbally slapped them all. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I recognized her. She's been following you for at least three days, and likely more," he admitted. "She even came all the way out to Shichirigahama."

He heard Ren shift to look at him, and he glanced over to catch Ren's eye.

"If I see her again, I'll find out who she is."

Ren smiled, a bright beam of thanks in the gray afternoon. "Thank you, Yashiro-san."

Yashiro forced himself to give him a casual smile in return and glanced away. "It's nothing, Ren."

* * *

"Tsuruga-san, in Scene 4, why did you have Katsuki pause outside the door, without looking in, before entering? The script mentioned Katsuki paused _after_seeing Mitsuki was in the room." Kyoko removed Ren's bento box from the large handkerchief she used for wrapping and placed his lunch in front of him, then moved to sit in her chair at their small round table.

Ren thanked her with a smile and answered, "By this point in _Dark Moon_, Katsuki is able to recognize Mitsuki's presence. He doesn't need to actually see her, he can sense her beforehand."

Kyoko's eyes shone. "Ohhh! Of course, Tsuruga-san! How powerful and poignant!"

Yashiro hid his grin behind his menu and tried to find something to eat while still paying attention to Ren and Kyoko's conversation. No doubt Kyoko had just added another line to her mental wall scroll, this one likely marked with several sparkly hearts and an angel of love to denote its extra romantic qualities.

The three of them were taking lunch in the station cafeteria, as Yashiro didn't care for today's official _Dark Moon_crew bento box. Ren always ate whatever bento Kyoko had prepared for him that morning, and today she had also brought one for herself. Yashiro had been touched when they offered to accompany him to the cafeteria upon seeing his glum look at the contents of the official bento, especially since Ren and Kyoko could eat anywhere they liked, with or without him. Yashiro enjoyed company and thought food tasted better when eaten with friends, and he couldn't think of two people he'd rather share a meal with more. Not to mention the increased opportunity of furthering his little scheme. He was rather proud of how he'd managed to claim a round table, thus ensuring Ren and Kyoko would be closer together than if they'd sat at a booth, where propriety would dictate Kyoko sit must alone on one side. A booth also would have meant he and Ren share the other bench, but personal sacrifices were all part of the plan. Besides, he allowed his foot to bump Ren's every so often under the table in pure innocence. That was plenty of contact.

"Yashiro-kun!" The sudden call roused him from his smug perusal of the soup selections. He looked up to see an out of breath _Dark Moon_crew member trot to their table. The man stopped in front of them, bowed, and took several deep breaths. Yashiro had a nasty premonition of a horde of fangirls storming the station, demanding his head on a plate.

"I'm glad I found you before you ordered, sir!"

The shrieking mob of women vanished in a puff of smoke. "Pardon?"

"It's this, sir." The man lifted up his hands to show the item he was carrying. The three of them examined it, and they all blinked in unison.

"That looks like a wrapped bento box," Yashiro observed.

"Yes, sir! It was just delivered for lunch."

Yashiro sighed, laid down his menu, and massaged his temples. "Tsuruga-kun only eats meals specially prepared for him by Kyoko-chan or station staff."

"No, sir! I mean, yes sir, we all know that!" The man shifted a bit, and Yashiro was surprised to see a blush creep across his face. "This bento was delivered specifically for _you_, Yashiro-kun."

Yashiro stared at him, shocked into silence.

"Is it from his mother?" Ren leaned forward to ask.

The man's blush increased. "No, Tsuruga-kun! It was delivered by a fan. Or at least, we all _think_ she was a fan. She was really blushing and asked for 'Yashiro-san'." He grinned. "She was a real beauty!

Yashiro's breath came back to him in a rush. He stood to take the bento from the man. "Thank you."

"No problem, sir!" The man gave him another knowing grin, bowed, and left.

Setting the bento down on the table, Yashiro resumed his seat. The trio studied the box for several moments. Like Kyoko's boxes, it was a compact, stacked version for easy transportation, and it was wrapped in a large kerchief of white, widely striped with blue.

"Who could it be from?" Kyoko asked, wide-eyed.

Yashiro shook his head in puzzlement. He glanced up when he heard Ren make a small noise of realization.

"Perhaps it isn't one-sided after all," Ren said with an encouraging smile.

Yashiro felt Ren's words and warm expression like a slap to his face. Without answering or looking at Ren, he quickly untied the handkerchief to reveal a black lacquered bento box inside. He removed the lid and separated the two tray layers.

"Ohhhh!" Kyoko breathed in appreciation.

The bento's contents were a work of art. The two layers portrayed a seaside landscape. Rice beach, barley gravel, a fence of sliced ginger, daikon spear tree trunks with broccoli leaves, sprinkled herbs and seaweed for grass, sushi roll boulders, a yellow sky of tamagoyaki, cherry tomato setting sun, rice noodle clouds, and a sparkling blue ocean wave with pink highlights that had to be some form of home-made sugared desert. It was completely breathtaking.

"Yashiro-san!" Kyoko clapped her hands to her cheeks. "That would have taken _hours_to make! Who is she, do you have any idea?"

Ren settled back in his chair, as pleased as a fan that had bought a magazine for an interview and found a photo spread bonus inside. "Please do tell us, Yashiro-san. Who is she? The crew was apparently quite impressed with her." He paused to give Yashiro a sly smile. "I must admit, I'm very curious myself."

Yashiro felt another stab at Ren's interest and looked back down to study the amazing bento. "I really don't know." He found the black chopsticks included inside. "It's...it's so pretty, it's a shame to eat it."

"I wish my cell phone had a camera..." Kyoko sighed.

The two men flinched.

Kyoko's face was suffused with joy, her eyes huge and filled with unshed tears of happiness. The girl positively quivered with emotion. "How wonderfully romantic, for her to make this bento just for you, Yashiro-san! She must have woken up so very early to do it, and she brought it to the station herself! All done to show her feelings for you! _That implies so much! Kyaaa!"_Kyoko almost swooned out of her chair in romantic ecstasy.

Quickly, Yashiro stole a glance at Ren. The actor's hand had frozen in the act of reaching for his first bite of food from the bento box Kyoko had made for _him_that morning. This time, it was Ren's turn to blush. A small affair, just a dusting of pink across his cheeks. He must have felt Yashiro's eyes on him, as he lifted his face to meet his manager's gaze. His expression was almost pained.

Yashiro gave him a sympathetic smile and motioned him to eat. After a quiet, "Itadakimasu," he started as well, lifting one of the sushi-roll boulders out of the tray and sampling it carefully. Kyoko seemed completely oblivious about what she had just said. Even now, she was dreamily eating her bento and gently swaying to some unheard fantasy symphony, her sparkly expression distant. Yashiro could swear he saw beribboned bluebirds and shimmers floating around her.

He was pleased to discover the decorative bento was every bit as delicious as it was beautiful. He was reaching for a second bite when he saw a small wax paper envelope tucked into the side right next to the ginger fence. After setting down his chopsticks, Yashiro lifted it out and removed the interior card. It only contained two words written in an elegant hand with a brush, 'Thank you'.

The words combined with the panoramic beach was all Yashiro needed to realize who had sent him the bento. He closed the card, replaced it in the envelope, and continued eating.

This was...unexpected.


	3. Insides

**Author's Notes:** Set in the _Dark Moon_ story arc after vol 13/Act 78/the end of the anime. BL/slash warning! This chapter is dedicated to Hoshi-sempai, who loves to write deeply internal, emotional fics. Written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100.

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 3: Insides

As Yashiro descended the final steps of the train station and walked onto the street, he took his phone from his jacket pocket and turned it back on. It cheerfully powered up, then beeped notice for a missed call and voicemail. He had just enough time to glance at the phone number.

"From Matsushima-san?" Yashiro pursed his lips in wonderment, then temporarily stashed the phone in a side pocket, tucked the bento box saved from lunch under one arm, and pulled on his rubber gloves. If the head of LME's Acting Section called this late, it had to be urgent. He retrieved the phone and accessed his voicemail.

"Yashiro-kun, it's Matsushima. A hitch has come up in the Tsuruga Ren Dream Group Date contest winners. One of the three winners failed her background check; she had a record for assault. Next in line to take her place is...well..." the voice trailed off, making Yashiro raise an eyebrow. "It's a man," Matsushima concluded bluntly.

Yashiro froze in the middle of the sidewalk, every cell of his being suddenly focused on the recorded message.

Matsushima continued, "Marketing seems to think it would be good for Tsuruga-kun, but we need to know how _he_ feels about it. The President doesn't want to force it on him. Call me as soon as you get this, no matter how late. You have my home number." With a click, the message ended.

Passers-by wended around Yashiro as he stood there, some with annoyance, one or two with an appreciative eye, but most ignoring him completely as they all walked or biked on autopilot to their respective homes. Yashiro's shock rendered him deaf and blind to all of them.

A man had entered and won the contest. A man had known enough obscure Tsuruga Ren trivia to qualify, had been devoted enough to watch every interview, read every article, and text every code to win, and he must have passed the background check for Matsushima to have mentioned him at all. His winning the contest was undeniable proof of his devotion to Ren.

A chill of shock struck Yashiro, one that reached to the very tips of his fingers and toes. He finally lowered the phone from his ear and stared numbly at it. Of course gay men were interested in Ren. He knew that, since he was one of them. It was absurd of him to imagine otherwise! He had seen the occasional man in the throngs of fans that flocked around his client. It was just...all of those fanboys had never done anything but admire Ren from afar, just like Yashiro.

This man, the contest winner, had broken the rules. He had openly pursued Ren in a way that Yashiro never dared. This Saturday, the man could very well be sliding into a limo next to Ren, could make Ren laugh over his drink, could touch his hand, could pull him onto the dance floor, could press himself up against Ren's exquisite body, could reach up and--

A hard knock on his side made Yashiro stagger. Gasping, he returned to himself and blinked at the bike-riding teenager who had bumped him in passing and now zoomed away down the street. The kid shot him the finger as he vanished over the hill.

With trembling hands, Yashiro closed his phone, replaced it in his jacket pocket, and pulled off the gloves. He began to take deep, even breaths and resumed his walk home.

He was jealous. No point trying to lie to himself. He was. But did he need to be? After all, Yashiro already spent hours each day, six days a week, with Ren. This contest winner would have four hours on one day alone. And even then, it would be only if Ren agreed in the first place. What were four hours, sharing Ren with the two other winners, to Yashiro and Ren's three year relationship? Their three year _working_ relationship, true, but still.

Yashiro swallowed and focused on not tripping while he climbed the stairs to his apartment building's front door and made his way to the elevator.

Yes, Yashiro sat in limos next to Ren, he made Ren laugh, he even touched Ren from time to time, but that's where it always ended. They worked together, and Ren trusted him implicitly. That's where it _had_ to always end.

Right?

Yashiro viciously cut off that wisp of thought, shutting and locking it securely away just as he shut and locked his front door behind him. He had more important things to worry about. Ren needed him. And right now, Ren needed him to do his job.

On that final internal order, Yashiro changed his shoes for slippers, placed the bento box and his schedule book on the side table, and pulled out cell phone and gloves once more. It was time to get to work. _That_ was proof of Yashiro's devotion.

* * *

He knew he was dreaming. It was the only explanation for Ren pulling him close, trailing kisses down his neck, and whispering encouragement into his ear. Irritatingly enough, it was the last that seduced Yashiro awake. The sensation of Ren's deep voice murmuring the words Yashiro knew he could never hear in reality was too exquisite to believe, even in dreams.

He woke with a pained breath. Groaning, he scrubbed at his face with his hands, then let his arms flop back to the bed. He lay there, stretched out flat on top of the tangled sheets, and did his best to focus on the pattern of the ceiling rather than the bulge in his boxers. His subconscious was about as subtle as President Takarada in a new costume. It was hardly the first time Ren had a starring role in one of his dreams. It happened rather often, much to Yashiro's consternation.

He sighed and glanced at his bedside clock. 5 AM. Too late to bother trying to return to sleep, particularly with the tent in his shorts that refused to deflate. Yashiro gazed down at it with a resigned expression. He'd have to take care of it himself. As usual. Being single did have its disadvantages.

When he finally left his apartment for his daily jog, the air felt invigorating. Still crisp and cool in the dark of a late autumn dawn, before the sun could begin to bake the cement and pavement, before the sidewalks were jammed with commuters on their way to work or school. This was the magic hour, his private time alone with his thoughts as the streets moved beneath him. On this particular morning, however, his mind refused to settle into the usual calming blankness. No, this morning he felt troubled in the extreme.

Today, Yashiro had to talk with Ren about the male contest winner. He could not even delay until after lunch, it had to happen as soon as possible. What would Ren say? Would the idea of a male date make him react with distaste, even with the two women included? What if he became angry? Or worse--what if he laughed and dismissed the idea as ridiculous? But what about the opposite end of the scale? What if Ren reacted favorably? What if he welcomed the idea of a man on the date? What if the man was gorgeous? What if Ren let the man grope him on the dance floor? What if he welcomed the advances? What if Ren and the gorgeous date clicked and Ren decided to see him again after the date was over and Ren and the date did everything in real life that Yashiro dreamed about and the gorgeous date would be jealous of Yashiro and Ren's close working relationship and he would demand Ren find another manager and the sex would be too good for Ren so he would comply--

Yashiro skidded to a halt on the sidewalk, his breath wheezing in and out in near panic. He reached over and snatched a bucket of water out of the hands of an elderly woman who had been splashing her house's entrance. He emptied the bucket's contents over his head, shook himself once like a dog, and stiffly held the bucket back out to the astonished woman with a silent bow.

She took it back. He continued his run.

* * *

"Good morning, Yashiro-san."

The sensation of Ren's deep and smooth voice resonating over Yashiro in real life was far better than he could ever dream. Yashiro swallowed, felt constrained by his tie, and loosened it a fraction while he settled beside Ren on the LME car's back seat.

"Morning," he managed to reply, only barely glancing at his client. Guilt stabbed him. He ruthlessly shoved the memory of his dream into the back of his mind and pushed the button to raise the divider between the front and back seats. He felt the curious look Ren gave him, but let himself ignore it until his briefcase was open in his lap. Then, fully prepared, he steadily met Ren's gaze.

"Ren, Matsushima-san phoned me last night to tell me one of the Dream Date finalists didn't pass her background check." He paused to hold up a profile sheet, complete with photo of the unlucky woman.

Ren glanced at the paper to identify which of the three it was and nodded. "Okay, Hanamoto-san is officially disqualified. So who will be taking her place?"

"That is where it becomes...tricky." Yashiro pushed up his glasses and tightened the internal locks on his emotions at the same time. Business was business. He took a breath and dove in. "Fourth place in the contest is a man."

Surprise flickered across Ren's face, then the actor settled back in his seat with a neutral expression. "Ah. I see."

Yashiro carefully studied him. "Do you?"

"Yes. It would be very good marketing, with all the pro-homosexuality rage in the media these days. And the man _did_ win the contest, after all." Ren slanted a grin at Yashiro, who could only blink in response and was speechless for several seconds while his mind searched for any implied meanings in Ren's words.

Ren raised one eyebrow during the stretch of silence. His grin faded. "It actually is fine with me, Yashiro-san. The male contest winner can be my third date."

Yashiro blinked again, still not quite sure how to react to Ren's straight-forward acceptance.

"My decision has upset you?" Ren asked with a touch of concern.

"Um...no..." Yashiro left the second half of that sentence unspoken: _...but apparently your lack of personal opinion does._ He took a breath and explained, "I didn't know which way you would lean," he voiced honestly. "Neither answer would have surprised me."

_"You_ have surprised me, Yashiro-san. A fan's love is a fan's love, after all. Regardless if they are male or female."

Yashiro stared at Ren, shock plain on his face at the simple logic. His cheeks flushed with shame, and he quickly lowered his eyes and stared down at his briefcase. "Forgive me for doubting your dedication, Ren."

Ren's voice was warm. "You don't need to apologize." Yashiro almost jumped when he felt one of the actor's large hands squeeze his shoulder in companionship.

"Most male celebrities would have objected, even if they had been previously open-minded about such things. They would not feel comfortable facing such a potentially volatile situation." He chuckled, the sound sending a fresh wave of chills along Yashiro's skin. "I, however, have no such concerns. More than that, though..."

When Ren let his words trail off, Yashiro glanced over to see Ren smiling at him. His shoulder, still in Rens grip, felt like it was on fire.

Ren must have been waiting for Yashiro to meet his eyes, as his smile broadened. "You obviously consider it a good idea as well, or you would have vetoed it from the start. And I trust you, Yashiro-san."

The pure joy that soared through Yashiro as he heard that statement made his very soul sing. He couldn't help himself. A brilliant smile on his face, he reached up and gripped Ren's hand with his own and gave it a warm squeeze.

"I do think it is a good idea, Ren. The fans will eat it up! Be prepared for some wild speculation. And BL doujinshi." Yashiro slipped into fangirl mode, eyes wide and sparkly, hands cutely clasped. _"Kyaa! Tsuruga-sama could be gay! Or at least bi! We must draw him with every other bishounen alive! Kyaa kyaaa!"_

That made Ren laugh, and Yashiro was devilishly pleased to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

* * *

As the day progressed, Yashiro couldn't banish the conversation from his mind. He kept mulling Ren's words over and over, even while he tweaked Ren's schedule and confirmed the acceptance of the male winner's presence on the group date. _'Very good marketing'_ implied it would be purely a business venture. Ren knew the value of pleasing fans, and this would indeed cause a--mostly--joyful stir. _'A fan's love is a fan's love, after all. Regardless if they are male or female'_. That meant Ren valued his male fans as much as his female ones, a sentiment that warmed Yashiro's heart in a not-purely-businesslike manner. The obvious conclusion from both statements was Ren didn't completely eschew male romantic attention. He might not be rolling out the red carpet, but he wasn't slamming the door in its face, either.

Maybe...just maybe...there really was the slightest spark of a chance. Especially when he remembered Ren's _'I, however, have no such concerns'_ dismissal about being uncomfortable interacting with a romantically interested gay man. If the idea didn't worry Ren in the slightest, maybe...just maybe...the reason was--

Even as the spark kindled up into a tiny flame of hope, Yashiro smothered it. He already knew the reason Ren felt completely comfortable about the gay man joining him on the date. It was the same reason his client felt completely comfortable about the two women who also won the contest: Ren already loved one person. He loved her with a focus that eclipsed ever other potential romance.

Ren loved--

"Yashiro-san?"

At the gentle voice and faint touch on his sleeve, Yashiro glanced up to see Otani watching him with concern. They were sitting at a small break table, where Otani had been temporarily banished while her fellow makeup artists scrambled to deal with a late-arriving _Dark Moon_ co-star.

"You seem rather preoccupied today, Yashiro-san."

He gave the woman a rueful smile and straigtened in his chair. "Forgive me, Otani-kun."

She brushed his concern aside. "It's fine, Yashiro-san. You don't have to say anything, I like silence with you. It's...nice." She flushed underneath her makeup and ducked her head in embarrassment. "I really am happy to just s-sit here."

Yashiro sipped his coffee and studied her thoughtfully. "Otani-kun, why is that? I mean, we both have someone else we love. Nothing romantic is possible between us, so why are you happy to simply sit here next to me? With no possible hope for more?"

Otani fidgeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, playing with a ring on her right hand, and finally meeting Yashiro's gaze through her long bangs. "I...I think it's _because_ there is no hope for more." She blushed again and diverted her gaze. "Since I know that, I don't have to be nervous. I don't have to worry what you might think if I'm clumsy, or spill something, or make a fool of myself. I can just...like being next to you."

She waved her hands in a vague and hurried gesture, sending Yashiro's empty coffee mug spinning across the table. He snatched it up before it could whirl off to crash on the floor.

Otani winced and rubbed her hand where she had hit the mug. "S-sorry. I'm really not that nervous. Today, at least." She carefully folded her hands in her lap and sat back. "Um...when there's no hope, there's no pressure, and there's no chance of refusal. It's safer like that."

Yashiro stared at her in astonishment. The woman smiled back at him with a touch of melancholy, then stood and bowed.

"Thank you for joining me for coffee today, Yashiro-san. Until next time." At his silent and wide-eyed nod of acknowledgement, she left the break area.

Otani-kun had given voice to the very thing that Yashiro had been trying to accomplish with his plan. Once Ren and Kyoko were officially together, any hope he might be harboring would be truly smothered. Ren would officially be off-limits, and Yashiro would be safe from his guilty and impossible dreams. Yet hearing his own subconscious reasoning echoed back to him from the lips of a sad, sweet woman made his heart ache.

How he felt now, inside, was so very different from how he had felt in the car. When Ren had gripped his shoulder and told Yashiro how much he _trusted_ him. Even while Yashiro had mocked the fangirls, he'd secretly wanted those silly doujinshi to be drawn. What did that say about him? More than that, Ren had never thanked Yashiro for his interference regarding Kyoko. If anything, Ren seemed rather irritated by it. Yet Yashiro couldn't stop himself, and it was all for his own selfish reasons.

Yashiro scrubbed his hands over his face for the second time that day. Filled with self-loathing, he leaned back in his chair and glared balefully at his clenched fists.

He should pay attention to the man on Ren's group date. Maybe he could learn something about honesty.


	4. Purple

**Author's Notes:** Written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100. Four prompts down, 96 to go! Updated 9-29-11 for that pesky plot hole correction.

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 4: Purple

"The dates have their own rooms at the Murasaki Legacy Hotel. They check in tonight. Their individual makeover teams will coordinate Saturday afternoon via cell to ensure all three will be ready to go at their appointed time. Tsuruga-kun will personally escort each date one at a time to the limo." Izumi, a member of the LME marketing team and coordinator of the Tsuruga Ren Dream Group Date event, paused here to massage his temple. "I have firmly declined President Takarada's gracious offer of his Hummer limo. Again. A Hummer doesn't exactly portray the romantic image we're aiming to achieve here. We'll stick with the company Benz."

Yashiro chuckled along with Ren and the others in the meeting, grateful for the chance to laugh. The past day had been rather stressful. His realization after that last conversation with Otani had shaken him to the core, and he was still fighting to come to terms with it.

He kept one ear tuned to the meeting, not expecting anything new to be revealed since it was a final review the day before the event. In twenty-four hours, Yashiro would be preparing to run what he'd come to consider his personal gauntlet. He flipped past the profile pages for the two female dates and sat back to study the profile of one Satou Ginpei-san.

Satou wasn't what Yashiro had expected. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure what he _had_ expected, but he knew it wasn't this. Satou was 32 and owned his own sushi restaurant. Physically, he was of average height but powerfully built. His face was unquestionably masculine, his hair short and tidy. A thin goatee framed equally thin lips that were curved in a confident smile for his photo. But it was his eyes that caught and held Yashiro's attention. Satou was clearly a mature, self-assured man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted from life. What the man might lack in conventional aesthetic beauty he made up for in sheer magnetism.

He hardly seemed the type to enter a fan contest for a group date with a celebrity. However, owning his own restaurant at such a relatively young age meant he possessed the ambition to set a goal and work to achieve it. If he had set a goal to win personal time with Tsuruga Ren, he'd certainly managed to achieve that, too—and in a company-approved, unstalkerlike way. However much Yashiro had personally been shaken by the man's success, Satou's determination deserved a nod of acknowledgement.

"Yashiro-san?"

The sound of Ren's raised voice snapped his attention away from Satou's photograph and back to the meeting. Yashiro straightened and blinked at the expectant faces around the table. "Forgive me," he quickly apologized and shifted Satou's profile back into the stack of paper. "What was the question again?"

"Do you have any requests for changes? To the itinerary, the LME club patron plants, or anything else?"

Yashiro blinked at Izumi, who was watching him with thinly-veiled expectation. After all, Yashiro had arranged three days ago for Izumi to ask him this very question.

Three days ago. Before Satou had entered the scene, before Otani's gentle words had forced him to see himself in a new light, before he'd realized how he had been mistreating Ren.

Yashiro took a deep breath and stated with quiet determination, "No. No changes from me."

At the sound of Ren shifting, he glanced over and realized the other man watching him with surprise. When their eyes met, Ren's expression lifted into a pleased smile that sucked the breath out of Yashiro's chest.

Ren broke the moment to speak to Izumi, but Yashiro didn't hear a word of it. He carefully clasped his hands together and rested them on the table to reduce their obvious trembling. He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. The genuine smile from Ren had felt like a warm, welcomed hand on chilled skin.

Yashiro took a deep breath and straightened to focus on the remainder of the meeting, revitalized by the success of his first shaky step along his new path.

* * *

Yashiro stared through his reflection in the car window out at the Tokyo night, his mind in a tired and content daze after the unusually frantic day. Ren's wardrobe had been approved, the date schedule run through yet again, the contest winner's makeup and costume crews prepped and ready for the upcoming triple makeovers on the morrow, and the dates had arrived at the hotel. Through all the crazed preparations, and through Ren's standard busy schedule, Yashiro had been able to remain focused and in control with the memory of Ren's smile as a centering light. It had even prevented him from returning to his pointless brooding over Satou-san.

"Yashiro-san, do you own a black suit?"

"Huh?" Yashiro looked over at Ren, who was relaxed against his side of the car's bench seat and door, and was turned slightly to face him. Yashiro saw his teeth flash in a smile lit by passing streetlights.

Ren continued in a teasing tone, "I ask because I've never seen you in anything darker than the pink one that makes you look like a refugee from the Love-Me Section."

"The proper term for that shade is 'Angelic Aubergine', it's not even remotely _'pink'_, and why do you ask?"

The answer came easily, carelessly spoken upon the cool night air inside the car. "I'd like you nearby through the event tomorrow, not just hovering on the fringes as outlined in the current plan. If you are there as a third bodyguard, no one will question it. Izumi already gave his approval at the change." He chuckled once. "You must have been zoned out again when I asked at the meeting this morning."

Yashiro stared at Ren, his mind suddenly snapped alert. "I do have a dark gray suit, for formal occasions." He leaned toward Ren and kept his voice equally casual. "But Ren, why would you want _me_ in the middle of your date?"

That flash of teeth again. "Crowd control."

With a snort, Yashiro resumed gazing out his window.

"I am being serious, Yashiro-san. I've seen you silence a group of shrieking fans with one look so often, it's ceased to amaze me. If anyone can keep the night in order, it's you. Please, come along on the date."

Yashiro swallowed once, the click of his throat sounding loudly in his ears. "Your confidence in me is..." he trailed off, searching for the proper word until he found an appropriate substitute and continued, "...gratifying, Ren." He looked over at his client. "I will dust off my darkest suit and tag along, at your request."

The car pulled up to Ren's apartment building then, and Yashiro could clearly see Ren grin at him in the flood of light from the entrance. "Thank you for agreeing. And thank you as well for not asking Mogami-san to be included as a club plant."

As if Yashiro could have possibly doubted Ren's pleasure after that heart-stopping smile in the meeting! "You're welcome for both."

Ren let out a relieved sigh. "I'll have enough on my mind tomorrow night without having to worry about Mogami-san on top of everything else."

"Yes. Perhaps it _is_ best to leave her out of the thick of it."

Ren paused from climbing out of the car and glanced back over his shoulder at Yashiro, one eyebrow raised.

It was Yashiro's turn to grin. "Kyoko-chan excels at creating her own complicated situations these days. She hardly needs my help with that," he concluded wryly, remembering Kyoko's eureka realization of her way to play Mio, and the resulting chaotic fallout.

With another chuckle, Ren exited the car. "Indeed. Goodnight, Yashiro-san."

"Goodnight, Ren. See you in the morning."

Ren's home vanished behind Yashiro, and the actor's easy parting grin was mirrored on Yashiro's face. He relaxed in his seat with his own relieved sigh. Ren wanted him along on the date. Still more proof of how much his client trusted him! Yashiro had to live up to that high regard tomorrow; he did want to end his former selfish actions of keeping Ren distant by pushing him together with Kyoko. But now, at Ren's request, Yashiro himself would be right in the middle of the date.

In the middle of the date—where he had first planned _Kyoko_ to be. But unlike Kyoko, Yashiro wouldn't just be an extra. He'd be alongside Ren from the very beginning...watching Ren interact with a completely out-and-proud-of-it gay man.

That selfish feeling returned to perch on Yashiro's shoulder, where it leered down at him with a fanged and predatory smile. Yashiro would have a front-row seat for observing Ren's reception of another man's romantic overtures. It wasn't even abusing his managerial position, since Ren had asked him to come along and watch over things.

Yashiro thanked the driver for delivering him all the way home and proceeded to his apartment. He dropped his briefcase on the chair just inside his front door, loosened his tie, and made his way to bedroom closet. His suits were neatly arranged by color and intensity, and on the far side of the Angelic Aubergine—like the lovely shade was anything close to _pink_, really!—he found his darkest suit.

He pulled it out and hung it on a hook to examine it with a critical eye. Charcoal gray and only a year old, bought for his childhood friend's wedding, but he had no ill feelings associated with the suit. His crush on his old best friend had faded long ago, and Yashiro had been able to honestly wish him and his new wife the best. However, the suit _was_ unfortunately an R Mandy.

Yashiro flushed. He'd deliberately splurged on the extra hundred thousand yen for the designer label just to feel a connection to Ren. He'd also known he'd rarely wear it in Ren's sight, given Yashiro's preference on the job for light-colored suits. Since it was also one of the label's more conservative designs, Ren would be unlikely to notice the make. Even if he did, it wouldn't matter overmuch. Ren would just assume Yashiro saw the suit, liked it, and probably purchased it to show support for one of Ren's regular employers.

In the end, it didn't really matter. It was a rather expensive suit for a bodyguard, but only the highly fashion-conscious would notice, and any fashionista present or poring over photos after the event would be focused on Ren and the three dates. Particularly the male one, to be sure.

Yashiro took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then prepared for bed. He needed as much energy as possible to deal with tomorrow. It was going to be one hell of an event.


	5. Strangers

**Author's Notes:** Set in the _Dark Moon _story arc after vol 13/Act 78/the end of the anime. BL/slash warning! Written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100. I must give special thanks to my friend and beta Hoshi-sempai, who pointed out the standard limousine interior and caught some of those pesky errors that plague us all.

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 5: Strangers

Yashiro fastened the last button on his charcoal R Mandy suit, smoothed the elegant material against his chest, and studied his reflection in the dressing room mirror. It was somewhat startling to see himself in a dark suit. He preferred to wear lighter colors for three reasons. First, because pale suits in the professional world were rare and helped him stand out in an ocean of black-suited salarymen and executives. They had become his signature style in the industry. Second, because they showcased his runner's physique, which he labored to maintain and of which he was rather proud. Third, because the pale suits enhanced his already pale skin and hair in what most people considered a very pleasing manner. This charcoal gray suit, while not black, was still dark enough to contrast starkly with his coloring.

His hair was too long to slick back without using a distastefully large amount of styling product, and Yashiro had no desire to feel like he had traded his hair for a molded plastic wig. He shifted the part of his bangs to one side and secured them behind his ears with a little gel and four judiciously placed bobby-pins. The unframed view of his face was a bit much, so he pulled a few strands of bang rakishly free from the longer side of the part. His glasses had been sacrificed for the night in favor of contacts. Overall, Yashiro decided he looked like a very sleek, dashing, and overwhelmingly pale stranger.

As if to establish that as fact, Ren stepped out from behind the screen and froze when he saw Yashiro. The actor blinked, then ran his eyes down Yashiro and back up again.

The nervousness Yashiro already felt from the upcoming evening petrified into a mass of rock inside his stomach. _Ren _was checking him out. Never in a hundred years would Yashiro have expected this could ever happen. He held his breath, then in a surge of reckless abandon gave Ren a sly smile and lifted his hands in invitation. "What do you think?"

The actor eyed him again. "You look...different. Not like yourself at all."

And just like that, the moment was squelched. Yashiro chuckled with a touch of irony. "I believe that is the point. Though the proper adjective in this situation is 'vampiric'." He whirled dramatically towards Ren, raised an arm in front of his face as if hiding behind a cape, and laughed. "Muwahahaha! Yes, my disguise is perfect!" he cackled in B-movie vampire English. The bad Transylvanian accent on top of his already thick Japanese accent made the impersonation rather unique.

Ren stared for a second as he picked his way through the spoken mess, then laughed and raised a hand to his rub his face. "Yashiro-san, please don't do that again. Ouch!"

Yashiro dropped the act with a grin. "That is why _you_ are the actor, and _I _am the manager."

"The manager who does impersonations," Ren added. "Some of which are more successful than others."

"You know you enjoy them," Yashiro observed smugly.

Ren chuckled and turned to face the large mirror for a last once-over. His shirt was black and clingy, with a high collar that emphasized the planes of his neck and collarbones. Over it he wore a loose, royal blue velvet shirt, buttoned only once in the middle of his chest. His pants were shiny black leather and sinfully flattering. A matching set of silver-studded black boots and belt completed the ensemble. Ren had traded his favorite necklace for a fine silver chain with a thumbnail-sized rendition of the kanji for "dream" that looked as if it had been written with a brush dipped in liquid silver, which pulled the eye straight to Ren's deliciously showcased chest.

In Yashiro's opinion, the complete package truly was good enough to eat. Ren looked like a bad-boy dressed up for a night of scandalous behavior. He desperately wanted to run his hands over the other man. To feel the smooth, cool leather warm at his touch, to linger over the soft velvet shirt, then slip inside to discover if the undershirt was just as silky as it looked. With a gulp, Yashiro closed his eyes and turned slightly away from his client.

He spent six days a week in Ren's presence, while Ren was in all manner of costumes and characters. Tonight would not be any different. Ren had asked him out, yes, but it was to help with crowd control. He was _not_ one of Ren's dates. Yashiro was coming to _work._

_To work. _Yashiro focused on that fact, and when he looked up, it was the fiercely intimidating professional who met Ren's gaze in the mirror.

Ren gave him a slow, faint smile. He had also dropped his previous casual air and invoked the serious, well-mannered persona he used when dealing with the public. "Looks like you're ready, too."

"Yes."

Ren removed Yashiro's coat from the stand and handed it to him before pulling on his own coat of black leather. "Well then, let's start this date." Ren strode out the door. Yashiro in step behind as his iced shadow.

* * *

Outside the Murasaki Legacy Hotel, the Group Date coordinator, Izumi, introduced Ren and Yashiro to the actual bodyguards for the evening. Their greetings for Ren were courteous. Miyamoto-san precisely fit the bodyguard mold. When he greeted Yashiro, it was with a stiff, barely polite bow. Yoshioka-san had dark-skinned ancestry of some sort, and the foreign blood made her strikingly beautiful and of the same height as Yashiro. She eyed the much paler man with slight resentment before she bowed in a similar manner. The pair of them radiated confidence and physical power, and they clearly did not appreciate Yashiro's intrusion into their work. When he assured them that he had confidence in their abilities and would stay out of their way, they noticeably relaxed.

Yashiro kept a weather eye on Ren through the introductions, determined to fulfill his role as the actor's personally requested crowd control. Ren had been in full professional mode upon meeting the pair of bodyguards, and only someone who knew the actor well would have been able to pick up his irritation. Of course Ren considered himself perfectly safe in the close proximity of three enamored strangers, and of course Izumi had insisted on bodyguards anyway, with Yashiro in chorus. Thankfully Ren seemed to accept Miyamoto's and Yoshioka's presence when they also relaxed. Before Yashiro could express his relief to Ren for softening towards them, Jelly Woods appeared and attacked the velvet shirt with a lint roller.

Izumi thrust a company headset at Yashiro before dashing off inside the hotel, yammering into his own headset's mic and clutching his clipboard. Yashiro donned his earpiece just in time to catch Izumi's frantic wail. He glanced at Ren with a wry smile. "It seems the President will be crashing the date."

Ren returned the expression. "I'm surprised he's not already in the lobby with one of my dates on each arm and the third wrapped around his neck."

Jelly made a final, rather sharp swipe across the lower back of the shirt, where it brushed Ren's backside. When he glanced at her in surprise, she smiled sweetly. "All done."

Yashiro stifled a snicker. Suddenly the chatter in his ear increased, and one of Izumi's assistants waved to them from the hotel's front entrance.

"Showtime," Ren said. He nodded a come-along to Miyamoto, and the pair of them vanished through the entrance to retrieve the first of the dates. The direct light of sunset rendered the glass doors bloody and opaque.

With a deep breath, Yashiro joined Yoshioka inside the limousine. Showtime for him, too.

* * *

When they exited the hotel's front door, Ren's first date clung to his arm and smiled triumphantly into the flashing paparazzi cameras. Kaino Yuki was her name. According to her profile page, she was in her early twenties. Her incredibly long hair was bleached to an almost pink color that made Yashiro wonder how much conditioner the makeup department had needed to render it manageable. Once past the cameras, she had eyes only for Ren. She hung on to his hand until the last possible moment after he had helped her inside the limo, and only a promise from him that he would return soon induced her to release him. Kaino-san sulked, glancing dismissively at Yashiro and outright glaring at Yoshioka. She turned her back on them and longingly watched Ren as he and Miyamoto slipped back inside the hotel.

The only thing pretentious about the second dream date winner was her name, Jarizumeido Hitomi. She was in her early thirties, and softly rounded in a way Yashiro understood straight men quite often liked. She shied away from the cameras, hiding her face in Ren's arm until he spoke in her ear. Then she bravely faced the press and smiled, relaxing as Ren slowed their walk to the limousine to give her time to enjoy the moment.

The cool reception Yashiro had earned from Ren's bodyguards seemed like a warm welcome from good friends compared to Kaino's reaction to Jarizumeido-san. The latter dreamily watched Ren close the limo door and turned to smile at the other occupants, her warmth faltering when it landed on the fuming Kaino. Jarizumeido hesitantly bowed and voiced a soft greeting to the other date, who outright snubbed her by turning away and resuming her vigilance on Ren.

Yoshioka shifted to one side of the seat at the back of the limousine, which placed her at a right angle to Kaino and close as possible without actually sharing Kaino's seat. The woman scowled at the bodyguard and pressed closer to the glass after Ren.

Clearly uncomfortable, Jarizumeido clasped her hands together in her lap and stared down at them. Yashiro let his iced professional self slide enough give the shy woman a proper welcome. The relieved smile and bow she gave in return endeared her to him immediately.

"Yashiro-san, I think it best if you moved to sit next to me now." Yoshioka caught his gaze and indicated Kaino with a flick of her eyes.

Nodding, Yashiro complied. He was glad to be free of the limo's main seating area. He settled into the back bench seat, facing forward. The limousine's interior was arranged in a horseshoe shape, with two long bench seats facing each other down the center, and a shorter bench seat at the rear of the vehicle. Yashiro and Yoshioka occupied this seat. The two dates shared the left side, though extremely opposite in both positions and behavior.

"Tsuruga-kun and Satou-san are exiting the building." The words, murmured directly into Yashiro's ear via his headset, snapped him completely into the moment. A wave of intensity, almost like pain, coursed through him. He clenched his hands on his thighs, held his breath, and leaned forward just enough to see through the window past Yoshioka.

The paparazzi exploded. Camera flashes strobed through the gathering darkness, and shouted demands for comments or spicy photo ops echoed off the hotel's walls. Yashiro caught only glimpses of Ren around cameras, booms, and lights. The actor wore the same suave smile he'd had for his emergences with the previous two dates. Ren glanced down, his smile widening, and spoke something inaudible within the cacophony.

Ren and his third date—too short to be visible over the heads of the press—slowly moved forward, pausing for photos, for comments. Ren seemed completely at ease, and even enjoying himself.

Finally the path to the limo cleared, and Yashiro saw Satou Ginpei in the flesh. Where Kaino had lorded over Ren like a possession, where Jarizumeido had clung to him as a damsel with her protecting knight, Satou stood next to Ren as an equal.

They were holding hands, and when Ren spoke unheard words to his date again, the man leaned back against him with a smile and the press exploded anew.

Yashiro drank in every moment, his focus so complete he lost track of the other occupants inside the limousine. The jealous hiss of Kaino, Yoshioka's calm focus upon her, and Jarizumeido's gasp and bright flush—all were eclipsed from his senses by the sight of Ren and Satou.

Yashiro took a deep breath, held it, and breathed out his anxiety and petty jealousy in one slow, even exhale. He was here to _work_. He raised his eyes and watched with imminently professional focus as Ren opened the limo door for Satou.

Ginpei spread out in the middle of the right side's bench seat. Miyamoto sat next to him, opposite Kaino. Ren took the place between his two female dates, directly across from Satou.

Satou looked briefly from person to person to collect his bearings, not granting Yashiro any more or less scrutiny than the others, until his gaze settled on Ren. A slow smile of content bloomed across his face.

The car vibrated around them as it roared to life. They pulled away from the hotel in the midst of more camera flashes and excited shouts. They were a limousine full of strangers. Even Yashiro felt himself one, disguised and frozen beneath layers of glacial ice.


	6. Work

**Author's Notes:** Still written for the LJ challenge community fanfic100. Many thanks to my beta once again, the wonderful Hoshi-sempai. Last tweaked 10-18-11 to correct a typo.

* * *

**A Manager's Devotion**, Chapter 6: Work

The setting for the first half of the evening was a classy European fusion restaurant, equal in glamour and expense to its clientele. All three dates seemed to enjoy it, particularly the fervent Kaino, who outright reveled in the demure whispered attention delivered by fellow patrons. The others were all plants, of course, but Kaino didn't know and so enjoyed their notice immensely. Ren shared a sly smile with her, making the woman beam, before he turned to a nervous Jarizumeido and helped her relax again with a joke about the expanse of cutlery lining their plates. Satou seemed content to watch Ren charm the other two dates, until he deftly stole the thread of conversation with a story that had Jarizumeido blushing, Ren laughing, and Kaino in a snit. Ren soothed her, traded warm looks with Satou, and asked Jarizumeido a question she happily answered.

From his position standing a short distance away—and with the perfect excuse of his bodyguard disguise—Yashiro watched Ren execute this delicate dance throughout the dinner and marveled at his actor's skill. Ren clearly was endeared by Jarizumeido's sweet nature, and Yashiro could hardly blame him, since he rather liked the woman himself. She eased out of her shell as the evening progressed, particularly after Ren deflected a scathing glare that had been aimed at her from Kaino, until she had the confidence to hold her own in the foursome's animated exchange.

In all honesty, the vast majority of Yashiro's concentration was focused on observing Ren with Satou. Ren was true to his word: Satou was a devoted fan, and as such his love was just as valuable as that of Ren's female admirers. Ren treated Satou with as much warmth and regard as the two women. He met Satou's eyes without a trace of nerves or resentment, he leaned in or touched the man when the opportunity was perfect, and he gave Satou an appraising nod when the other man deftly nipped off another one of Kaino's verbal attacks before she could make it nasty.

Yashiro hungrily studied every moment of interaction between Ren and Satou, drinking it in and letting the tiny, petty part of his mind groan with jealousy.

If Ren slighted anyone for warmth and welcome, it was the increasingly difficult Kaino. Yashiro was not the only one to notice her worsening behavior. Voices of the event's handlers buzzed in Yashiro's earpiece with matching concern. Judging from the carefully controlled smoothness of Ren's gestures when attending her, Yashiro knew Ren truly was working at maintaining his gentle reputation. Kaino clearly had no idea of Ren's lessening regard and diligently worked to overshadow the other two dates. After a particularly cutting remark, Ren dazzled her into silence with his killer gentlemanly smile, offered hand, and softly spoken words. Somewhat starry-eyed, Kaino accepted his help and stood. Ren caught Yashiro's eye, who answered Ren with a slight nod and moved forward.

"Kaino-san, may I escort you to the powder room?" He bowed slightly and held out his elbow. Still dazed, she took it, and they moved past the table. Yashiro sneaked a look at the other two dates and found them staring back; Jarizumeido still pale and drawn after Kaino's malicious snark, and Satou studying Kaino with distaste. The man shifted his gaze to Yashiro, then he allowed Ren to pull him back into conversation.

Yashiro and Kaino walked across the restaurant's granite-tiled floor with the female bodyguard, Yoshioka, following a few steps behind. Kaino moved on autopilot, paying no attention as they wound through the tables and past other diners. When they reached the short hallway that led to the restrooms, Yashiro paused and laid a hand over Kaino's where she held his arm.

Dazedly, she blinked at him.

Yashiro bent slightly down with a smile and said in a low voice, "Kaino-san, recall this is the Tsuruga Ren Dream _Group _Date. The other two dates have as much a right to Ren's attention as you have. Your behavior towards them is disrupting the date and is decidedly unbecoming."

She snapped out of her breathless reverie and glared up at him, violently releasing his elbow.

He deftly cut her off before she could speak or flounce and froze her in place with his most intimidating Protective Manager cast. "Kaino-san, you _will _moderate your behavior, or you _will _be removed from the date. This is your only warning."

Kaino shut her mouth with a _click_, her eyes wide.

Satisfied, Yashiro gave her a barely-polite bow and stepped away, allowing Yoshioka to escort the stunned woman inside the restroom. Yoshioka gave him an approving glance and a nod of acknowledgement as she passed. He turned his back to the wall near the ladies' room entrance, listened to his earpiece chatter about the neutralized threat, and waited for the women's emergence. He felt rather pleased to have impressed a professional bodyguard with his crowd control technique.

* * *

Ren and his three dates swept with great animation through the flashbulb-sparking paparazzi and breezed ahead of the waiting line of hopeful clubbers to walk straight inside _Mount Fuji's Trash_. The club radiated energy, from the dancers moving on the floor, from the talking and laughing observers, and even from those seated at their tables with drinks in hand. The vast majority of club patrons were LME plants. Yashiro noticed several fellow managers with their actors in moderate disguises, also agency talento, singers, and even some faces he simply recognized from the office's hallways. Secretaries and go-fers had all lobbied to fill the club and enjoy a fun night out on the company yen, and a large number of the plants had obtained permission to bring along non-employee dates and friends.

Ginpei grinned and admired Ren's newly-revealed backside—covered in those enticing black leather pants—once they had checked their coats at the door. Jarizumeido clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled, taking in the dancers with shining eyes and delighting in the heavy beat of the music. Kaino gave a thin smile and sullenly accepted her turn to sit opposite Ren at their table.

Their reserved table was on the first raised level above the dance floor, only a short flight of steps away from the throbbing dancers. Yoshioka and Miyamoto unobtrusively moved to stand against the low wall that separated their level from the next one above, both of the bodyguards turning to face the table.

Yashiro joined them. As he had in the restaurant, he let the professionals take the best positions for immediate action, and instead stood to one side and directly in Ren's line of sight. The actor glanced up at him, again briefly flicked his eyes at Kaino, then back to Yashiro with a secret grin. Yashiro returned it with a touch of smugness. It seemed rather naive, but Yashiro did enjoy excelling at his work, particularly in this situation. Ren had asked him along to work, after all, and Yashiro wanted the evening to be a success. Particularly one ripe with plenty of interaction between Ren and his male date.

Drinks were ordered and arrived, conversation between the happy trio of the foursome bubbled, the LME photographers snapped their publicity shots, the entire club of people—both plants and their civilian companions—were performing their roles brilliantly, the earpiece voices buzzed all-is-well, and Kaino continued to behave. Overall, Yashiro decided he was quite pleased with the professional aspect of the evening's progression.

As for the personal...Yashiro watched as Ren moved towards Ginpei and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder so he could lean in and say something over the pulsing music. Ginpei laughed and leaned in as well, both men including Jarizumeido into their private moment when she asked about their joke. His gaze fixated on Ren's hand, Yashiro counted. After nine point five endless seconds, Ren released Ginpei and reached across the table to touch Kaino's hand and welcomed her into the conversation. She leaped at her chance to reclaim Ren's attention.

Yashiro closed his eyes, let that tiny voice inside him wail, and took in a deep breath. The air was chilled to keep the packed club comfortable, and he tried to focus on the sensation of the sharp air cutting into his lungs while ordering his thoughts.

He was jealous of Ginpei, that he could admit. Yashiro had never seen Ren touch another man in anything but work or friendship. Ren's easy flirting with Ginpei, very like what Yashiro would do himself when out on a first date with someone new, was painful to witness. Yashiro had certainly watched Ren woo women on-set for years, but that never seemed to make much of an impact upon him. Even this night, he observed Ren work his magic upon Kaino and Jarizumeido and felt it all in a day's work.

His eyes moved to Ginpei, and another flicker of envy crept through him. He studied his toes, took a second deep breath, and strengthened his resolve. He'd wanted to observe Ren with a gay man in a romantic situation, he'd been personally given the chance by Ren, and now he had to face it. _Be careful what you wish for, _indeed.

As if in unspoken response to Yashiro's mental resolve to observe as much as he could, Ren stood. "Would any of you care to dance?"

"Yes!" Kaino leaped up, almost knocking back her chair, and making the other two dates startle.

Ren stepped forward and held out a hand. "Kaino-san," he said in acknowledgement as she latched on to him, then looked at Ginpei, who gave him a rueful smile and waved them away, and then to Jarizumeido, who glanced at Kaino and visibly paled. She stared back down at her drink and shook her head minutely. "No rush," Ren smiled gently at them both. "The evening is far from over."

He turned Kaino, who glared triumphantly down at Ginpei and Jarizumeido. She pointedly ignored Yashiro's warning look and clung to Ren as they moved away.

Yashiro frowned after her, then winced when his earpiece exploded into sound. The subject of the excitement made him sigh, and he braced himself for the fun to truly begin.

In a sudden crash of silence, the music and the lights in the club cut off. Everyone gasped in shock and began murmuring as their eyes adjusted to the scant illumination made by the emergency lighting strips on the floor that outlined the dancing area, walkways, and the stairs. With a flair of trumpets, a big band number suddenly blared through the speakers, and spotlights focused on the club's entrance way.

There he was. The President of LME strolled into the club, teeth flashing in a bright smile that almost managed to outshine his white zoot suit—made from a cloth with a reflective sheen. The outfit was complete with swinging watch chain, wide-brimmed and also reflective pimp hat, long flourishing red feather in the hat's band, and even a tommy gun replica hanging at his side that was slung on a leather strap across his chest. And of course, he had an appropriately costumed woman on each arm.

Approving cheers and catcalls of excitement erupted from the club patrons, who after all knew of President Takarada's love of cosplay and enjoyed his eccentricities. Yashiro bit back a groan and saw Ren stiffen. It had taken a moment for both of them to recognize the women on either side of the company president. Yashiro wasn't surprised to see Kotonami-san wearing her glittery and slinky black 40s-style evening gown like she was born to it, but seeing Kyoko-chan in the same dress—hers in screaming red—was somewhat of a shock. She had to be channeling Mio or another sophisticated role from one of her acting lessons, because Yashiro could not believe Kyoko-chan in her natural state could _ever _look that glamorous.

The President spun Kyoko-chan and Kotonami out, one on each hand. The girls smiled at the resulting wolf-whistles, and Kyoko blushed most fetchingly. When someone shouted an invitation for a drink, Kotonami simply smiled and held up her hand to display the black X drawn upon it that indicated she was underage. More catcalls followed, particularly when Kyoko mimicked her, and they both bowed before President Takarada swept them toward Ren's party.

Yashiro quickly looked to the actor where he had paused on his way to the dance floor, with Kaino clinging to him. He could see the tension in Ren's jaw, but Ren's acting was so consummate that Yashiro doubted anyone else in the club could ever notice—particularly with the President and his two 'dames' dominating all the attention.

Ren spoke unheard words to Kaino, who began to protest rather vehemently. Ren shook his head at her in apology and turned to find Yashiro beyond the two still-seated dates. Meeting his client's eyes, Yashiro stepped out to join Ren on his other side and await the President's arrival. The actor pressed his lips together and tilted his head at Yashiro, who gave a brief nod in reply. Both were unaware that Ginpei and Jarizumeido had turned to follow Ren's gaze and watched the silent exchange.

With a dashing smile, Lory Takarada—the big boss, President, and namesake of LME—descended upon the Tsuruga Ren Dream Group Date and brought havoc with him. She stepped lightly in a blood-red dress, still blushing, and hanging on to her sophisticated characterization by a tenuous thread.


End file.
